


Leviathan

by SayNevermore



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-02-12 23:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12971169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayNevermore/pseuds/SayNevermore
Summary: Noctis Lucis Caelum embarks on the brand new boat built for him by the Lucis, to be married to Lunafreya in Altissia and put an end to the war.Prompto Argentum, hunter and photographer, embarks with the goal of making a living out of his art in a new place.They did not expect to find each other on the way.A FFXV Titanic!AU





	1. The Hydrean

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [[FR] Leviathan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11814597) by [SayNevermore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayNevermore/pseuds/SayNevermore). 



> HAPPY ENDING THIS WILL HAVE A HAPPY ENDING DON'T FREAK OUT for once I am here to deliver fluff, romantic shenanigans, people having sex in cars and only a tiny bit of political intrigues to spice it up. The main focus is on promptis, with a side of gladnis, but since I am a hopeless multishipper there are hints of OT4 that end up appearing everywhere. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This is the translation of my french fic of the same title, that I really like and want to be available for more people. Since it is still ongoing, I have no idea how often this one will be updated, but I'll try to be as regular as possible!  
> Apologies for all eventual future weird syntax as translating is not an exercise I am used to. Hopefully I will get better with time!
> 
> Anyway! Have fun with this!

The sky was an insolent blue. 

Right in the middle of the port of Insomnia, the brand new Hydrean seemed to rivalize in height with the rampart. Noctis let his eyes follow the lines of her massive hull, the four stories of portholes, the three decks with their delicately decorated railings. He glazed over the silver light of the huge solar panels set ablaze by the daylight. The cruise ship had been built specifically for him, for his trip, in record time compared to the work it had demanded. Every centimeter of external decoration has been carefully chosen to reflect on the arts and culture of Lucis. The motors were an example of cutting-edge technology, reducing the swelling sensation to almost nothing. Noctis had heard every person around him repeat the same speech to him over and over, as if they’d read it on an information leaflet. Which, come to think of it, was probably the case.

For a second he imagined the ship be smashed against the thick door that was to open onto the sea. He put his hands in his pants pockets.

“Yeah, well, I don’t see why everyone makes a big deal out of it. It’s just a big boat.”

“Is he always so difficut to impress, or is he pretending to be so perpetually blasé?”

The honeyed voice of Ravus coming from behind him made his hair stand on end in his neck. Singe the announcement of the treaty, Ravus had occupied a room inside the citadel instead of being housed in one of the distant wings like the rest of the Nif delegation, or sent back like the chancellor, the soldiers and the emperor. He had supervised the construction work and the organisation himself, as if he had the slightest talent in any of those fields. His habit of sneaking behind Noctis to emit some sarcastic comment was the only reason why Noctis was impatient to board on the Hydrean. Once she’d be far away from the coast, nothing could stop him from fantasizing about throwing his future brother-in-law into the ocean without any chance for anyone to find his body. 

Brother-in-law… the mere thought had Noctis shivering. 

He had kept a friendly and even conniving relationship with Lunafreya, but the perspective of the wedding, and of being at the mercy of Ravus and half of the Nif government, was the opposite of a delight. All of his close entourage could try and praise the merits and innovations of the Hydrean, reminding him that she had been built specifically to bring him to Altissia, as his personal ambassador; for the young prince of Lucis, she was nothing else than a beautiful cage transporting him directly into the arena.

He has checked: there were animal fights happening in the Altissian Coliseum.

 

“Loqi, would you take care of our luggage please?”

Oh, yes, because on top of that, Ravus had brought his little pet with him. Loqi shook his blonde head frantically and hurried a few guards to help him load the astronomical amount of bags they were carrying with them. No one had told Noctis this was a one-way ticket, but he could easily deduce that. 

And as if things were not shitty enough yet, the security on board was assured by the Nifs.

 

So none of the aspects of this trip excited him and yet everyone expected him to show enthusiasm. Ravus most of all managed a subtle balance between hating Noctis because he had to marry his sister, and hating Noctis because he didn’t seem happy enough at the prospect of marrying his sister. 

Maybe Noctis was going to throw himself overboard before the end of the trip.

“Very well,” Ignis said, swiftly putting himself between Noctis and Ravus as he had learned to, to defuse the tension between them. “Now that the cars and the luggage are in good hands, maybe we could move and have a look at our rooms?”  
And so they walked across carpeted hallways where the noise of their steps were softened, and stairs with golden handrails, and the decoration on the inside gave Noctis a vague whim to put two fingers down his own throat. It had nothing of the dark and sharp style of Lucis, this was a debauchery of light and beige that could only come from Tenebrae. Only the last floor was a little less kitsch, but at this point the damage was done.  
Ignis pushed the door of the suite and immediately put the magnetic card in his vest’s pocket. Noctis followed his gesture from the corner of his eye. There were only two cards and Ravus had the second one, meaning he couldn’t go anywhere alone without asking for permission. No one would admit it, but this was exactly what they had planned. He was imprisoned on his boat, in this cute high-tech cage, in the middle of the seas, unable to escape this wedding. He wondered what had given them the idea that he would try.

He walked amongst the sofas with the embroidered cushions, and the lacquered coffee tables, trying to look nonchalant and distracted. Behind him, domestics started invading the space to put down suitcases and boxes. 

“There are two separate rooms in this suite,” Ignis explained. “These will be for you and me. Ravus and Cor will take the suite on the other side of the hallway, won’t they?”

Noctis turned his head to see Ravus, arms crossed against the threshold, briefly nod at Ignis. Cor was observing the room. He must be already counting the exits and memorizing the place in case some tried to jump through the gigantic window and attack the prince. Ignis probably could have told Noctis if the window in question was reinforced, but he was almost certain the answer was yes.

“Wouldn’t it be better that I stayed with the prince?” Cor finally asked, a question so predictable Noctis had to fight hard against the urge of rolling his eyes. “I am in charge of his security…”

“Oh,” Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose, “Noctis will be perfectly safe with me too, thank you Cor.”

“Yes, Cor,” Ravus cut off. “You know these two are practically attached at the hip, you would be cruel to deprive Ignis of his only goal in existence.”

Noctis finally turned around entirely. Ravus had spent his time pouting or sending Noctis small cutting remarks that he had taken pleasure in royally ignoring - keeping a neutral and vaguely bored expression was, after all, a speciality of his - but attacking Ignis was off limits. Ignis probably was happier about this wedding than all of the other people in this room.

It was amazing, really, that Ravus was so unpleasant, when it was his sister getting married, and his kingdom that had the most problems with Niflheim since the beginning of the war. Did he really hate Noctis so much he preferred years of fightings to having him around?

“Why don’t you come sleep with me, Ravus?” Noctis suggested, his voice taking a fake seductive tone. “So that you can watch me all night and make sure I don’t throw myself in the water, and Ignis and Cor can have time taking care of the grown-up things…”

He sort of perceived Ignis shaking his head on his left, but he was too busy raising a suggestive eyebrow at Ravus to bother with it. Ravus’ smile became stilted, and he took a step back. 

“Do whatever you want, I don’t care.”

*

Prompto could not believe this.

Time had stopped around him. Galdin Quay, with its luxury hotel and its large wooden deck, didn’t exist anymore. The enthusiastic conversations melted with the rustle of the waves and turned into a slight buzzing in his ears. The sun on his back, the incredible crowd around him, he was forgetting everything. Nothing mattered except for the box working as a makeshift table, around which the players were gathered. He stared at the cards with such intensity he felt like they were moving in slow-motion.

Gladio was the one who knew how to play poker. He had taught him the basis and how to calculate his chances, appreciate the risks, keeping a neutral expression. But of course, Prompto, his all-relative caution and his multiple bad habits, were not the ideal cocktail to make a good player. Most of the time, he just followed what Gladio did and prayed for luck. He only joined the game when the stakes were reasonably low. The only reason why he was there right now, between his friend and a guy who kept wiping his forehead with a tissue, was because their new acquaintance had insisted in having a pair numer of players. He had played cautiously for the five last rounds, conscious that he could not lose all of his savings into this. 

But now… oh, now. Gladio kept glancing at his shaky leg and Prompto had to make extra effort to not smile at him immediately. He was going to love this.

It was his chance. 

“Alright, guys,” he let the smile spread on his face oh-so-slowly. “Now is the moment of truth. Whose life is going to change forever? Please, do the honors.”

Gladio gave him a mean look as the practically threw his cards on the table. Nothing. All of his money was on the table - he had lent Prompto some of it before they started playing. Prompto offered him his smile, hoping he’d understand. Of course Gladio had no trust in his abilities. Prompto couldn’t blame him.

The guy on his left, who was named Sven and talked with a strong Accordo accent, threw his cards as well. Nothing either. Prompto tried to hid his triumphal expression behind his own cards, although everyone probably had noticed it by now. He looked at his last adversary since the beginning of the round. A drop of sweat had slowly formed on his temple, right under his hair, and had rolled along his jaw as the stakes were raised up. But he had been the most adamant to follow. He must have a good hand - or he really wanted to impress them.

He showed his cards.

“Oh, two pairs,” Prompto commented with a frown. He could hear Gladio take a deep breath between his teeth. That was too good; he tried to look sorry as he turned his head to his friend, but he was on the verge of laughing and Gladio had to see it. 

“I’m sorry Gladio,” he said with the smallest voice he could manage.

“I swear to the Astrals,” Gladio growled, “if you tell me now that you’re…”

“I’m afraid you won’t see Iris before a while.”

Gladio shook his head very slowly, a gesture that could mean Prompto was about to get his ass kicked or his lips kissed very soon. With a ceremonial gesture, he threw his cards on the table and stoop up in the same breath.

“Flush! We’re going to Altissia!”

And while Gladio let the information come up to his brain, he started gathering the money and the two shiny tickets on top of the pile… and was cut in his tracks by a hand grasping his collar from the other side of the table. 

“Hey!” Gladio finally stood up as well. His large shoulders seemed to block the sun. “He won fair and square, you shouldn’t have gambled your tickets if you didn’t want to lose them.”

The guy considered the information for two seconds, which was strangely long. Prompto raised a blond eyebrow. No one with two ounces of good sense ever thought of contradicting Gladio. 

Finally, the guy’s eyes lowered towards his open jacket, the clearly-defined muscles, the huge scar across his torso, and he let Prompto go with a slight push that made him stagger for a second before he managed to plant his heels in the sand. The other guy turned towards his friend with a glare.

“I told you not to bet on them!”

And using their argument as a distraction, Gladio grabbed Prompto by his jacket and dragged him around towards the restaurant and the overcrowded dock.

 

It seemed like half of the kingdom had made the trip to Galdin Quay to get a look at the Hydrean. The huge liner had been built on the dockyard in Insomnia for months, and everyone had been invited multiple times to come and see it construction in real time; then there had been the inauguration on the military port of the capital, where the population of Insomnia had seen the Prince get on board and the ship sail for the first time. But the tourists were embarked on the lower decks from Gladin Quay, which was more easily accessible for all of Lucis, and that meant everyone was there. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually going to Altissia!” Prompto screamed, raising his arms towards the sky. “This is the best day of my life!”

“I really thought we couldn’t even go back to Lestallum!” Gladio shot back, hitting his shoulders with the tickets. “Astrals, don’t you ever do this again!”

“Oh, come on Gladio! We’re going on a cruise ship! I can become a real artist now!”

“Start by becoming an artist that actually gets paid…”

“Do you think we could see the princess? Do you think I could take pictures of the princess?”

“Surely not like the ones in your portfolio!”

“Hey! All the pictures I take are perfectly acceptable!”

Gladio laughed with a knowing look, but Prompto didn’t try to defend himself further. Gladio knew exactly what kind of pictures Prompto took, since he was accompanying him everywhere. And there were so many new opportunities opening up for him - he couldn’t focus on what he had done before. It was the future that mattered now.

Finding the room wasn’t difficult - although the hallways were small at this floor. The beds would probably not be that comfortable on the long run, but Prompto couldn’t manage to feel bothered by these things. The sun was starting to set when the ship sailed away. And it was going straight to a new life for him.


	2. The disaster

In just a few days, Prompto had made friends with half of the second class passengers and a few of the mechanics. He had even found some of his old friends working here. Gladio had long stopped following his every move, but he always found him on the bridge around five in the afternoon, taking pictures and a big bowl of fresh air. And here he was again, sitting on a plastic deckchair with dark blue cushions, accompanied with two other people, one of those was wearing thermal suit pants.

“Hope you’re not keeping good people to do their job,” Gladio said when approaching the group.

Prompto’s face instantly lit up.

“I’m not! It’s Holly! I didn’t think I’d find her here.”

“I didn’t think I’d find you two here!” Holly laughed, turning towards Gladio to shake his hand. “I saw you practically live at the gas station outside Lestallum for months because you couldn’t afford to eat in the city. How did you even manage to embark?”

“It’s thanks to me!” Prompto proudly claimed.

“Yeah, the Gods were with Prom that day,” Gladio smiled. “But what about you? You’re working on the engine? Who managed to drag you out the powerplant?”

“A man of the king himself, mind ya! They came to me having heard of my abilities with energy emissions… if that floating jewel can evacuate heat correctly, that’s my doing! They offered me the trip, I wasn’t gonna spit on it.”

“They really tried to impress the empire with that boat,” Prompto signed dreamily. “Holly explained to me how the cooling system works, and…”

“We should install one on you, too”, Gladio teased. “You’re going to overheat of you get excited like that every time someone talks to you about machines.”

“Gladio!” Prompto pouted.

If Gladio had never seen the pictures Prompto took—if he had not been a model for some of them—he would probably have pushed him towards mechanics. It was much better paid than being an artist, and Prompto would have felt at home. But they had been travelling together for years now, and it had convinced Gladio of one thing: it would be simply criminal to keep Prompto away from a camera for any length of time. They could live off cheap sandwiches and bag of chips from the gas station as long as they needed.

“Let the kid have fun,” Holly laughed. “It’s nice to see someone getting interested in what I do. The bigwigs put me here but they don’t care what I’m doing as long as I do it well.”

“You can’t ask them to take interest in the business of anyone,” another voice added.

They all turned to the last person of the group, who was just listening to the conversation until now. Gladio noticed the scarf around his neck, and the metallic plates hanging against his chest. He offered him his hand.

“And what business brings you here? What’s your name?”

“Dave,” the other guy answered.

“Dave,” Gladio repeated. “Auburnbrie? From the Meldaccio clan?”

“Himself. Have we met?”

“Nah, but I worked a lot with some of yours guys around Vesperpool, some time ago. When the Malboros started invading the mangrove. It’s nice to actually meet you.”

“Yeah, that was one hell of a job. I have to meet some guys from Accordo to discuss the same kind of problem with them. They paid me a part of the trip. If you went through the HQ, you must have met my family. My grandmother’s holding the fort while I chill on that boat.”

“Yeah, I remember her. With all due respect, I can’t believe she’s still holding up that well. How old is she now? She knew my grandfather.”

“I’m starting to suspect she knows how to defy death,” Dave laughed. “But you haven’t told me your last name?”

“Amicitia. Gladiolus.”

“Amic… woah ! Like the former king’s Shield ?”

“I’m his son.”

“What the fuck you’re doing here, then, shouldn’t you be up there with the rich guys?”

“Gladio’s nothing like those politicians,” Holly snickered. “I’ve seen some of the pictures Prompto has taken of his tattoo that would cause quite the scandal! No surprise they don’t want him with them…”

“Stop saying my pics are scandalous!” Prompto protested. “Only Gladio looks like he’s always posing for a porn calendar but, I mean, how do you want me to work with all that stuff…”

He made a large gesture towards Gladio’s abdominal muscles and Holly burst out laughing. Gladio raised an eyebrow that spoke for itself, and reported his attention on Dave.

“I left the house at nineteen to find a job. My father would’ve helped me if I had asked him, but I wanted to be able to deal with my shit alone as much as I can. He’s approving of my life choices anyway, and agrees that we need to learn to get our hands dirty, especially after the disaster we’ve seen in Cavaugh…”

“Still, I’m honoured to be sitting here next to the Amicitia son. My family had always been loyal to the Caelum line and the Insomnian court, even after Cavaugh and Galahd.”

“That’s nice to hear. But as much as I know, Cor Leonis does a great job as a Shield too; you can pay him your respect.”

“He’s on that boat too, by the way,” Holly said. “Actually, he’s right here, with the prince.”

With a quarter of a turn, she discreetly pointed the upper bridge, precisely the two men leaning against the guardrail, discussing animatedly. One of them—the youngest—was nervously shaking his arms while the other one seemed calmer. 

“That’s the prince?” Prompto frowned. “He’s… not even in a suit, it’s… kinda disappointing.”

But after a few seconds, he raised his camera and flashed a picture, and Gladio let out a laugh.

“There it is. Now we’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

“Stooop!” Prompto whined. “I’m cute and I don’t deserve that reputation…”

*

Ignis knocked at the bedroom’s door and, even if the gesture was meant to appease Noctis, it only got on his nerves. The suite had a magnetic key but the rooms inside didn’t even have a lock. What kind of intimacy could he hope for in here, and why did Ignis keep pretending he could have some?

“Come in.” 

He heard the click of the doorknob and the soft rustling of Ignis clothes as he slid himself through the opening. Noctis had left the curtains closed and the room was bathing in a tame darkness. He had spent an hour or so pretending to put his clothes in the wardrobe; in reality he was just pacing around the room, sometimes moving a shirt, and his bad knee was starting to hurt but he couldn’t just sit and wait for someone to come pick him up. 

Of course someone was going to come pick him up. No one can tell Cor Leonis to stick it up his ass without someone coming for them later. 

But for starters, he wouldn’t have told Cor anything if Cor had not come for him after he argued with Ravus about the wedding cake.

He did not care about the wedding cake, and, clearly, neither did Ravus! Why did they have to take care of that together, right now? Ignis was the one dealing with that kind of things. Ignis always knew if the strawberries would taste good with the wine of choice.

“We’ll be dining in an hour,” Ignis said. “You’ll be ready?”

This wasn’t a real question, it was just the kind of orders Ignis always gave.

“Yeah,” Noctis sighed. “You can help me put on the splint?”

“Your knee is hurting? You should sit, if you’re tired…”

“It won’t hurt with the splint.”

From the corner of his vision, he was Ignis wetting his lips. He could almost see him think, assemble the new informations to the general picture of the disastrous afternoon.

“You know, I could understand that you don’t want to appear… diminished, in Ravus’ presence, but if you need painkillers during the day…”

“I’m fine, Iggy. Don’t start with this.”

“Aren’t you trying to tell me you were in a bad mood because you were in pain?”

“I was in a bad mood because Ravus is an asshole.”

Ignis sighed. He was starting to get annoyed too. By the time the day ended, Noctis would have managed to infuriate literally everyone around him. Wonderful. Maybe then, they would leave him alone. 

“Noctis, you can’t keep up like this. You can’t spend your entire time provoking him.”

“Don’t see why. It’s funny.”

How old are you, Noct? Twelve? could he almost hear coming from Ignis, but of course his advisor didn’t say it out loud.

“I know it’s ridiculous,” he said instead, “but he seems to search for all the excuses he can to discredit you, and if your start opposing him and giving him the idea that you are not absolutely delighted to marry his sister…”

“You know exactly how delighted I am, Ignis.”

Noctis was avoiding his gaze at this point but he could perfectly imagine his mouth turn into a very thin line.

“Lady Lunafreya and yourself have stayed in touch for more than ten years, she grew up to become a strong and respectable young woman, and your feelings towards her…”

“I love her! But, it’s just… I mean, why does her brother spend all his time watching me, and what use does this wedding have in the peace process? You’re the strategist, Ignis, you know this is stupid.”

“The offer is clearly unbalanced, I admit, but you do not have all the details of the political situation of the kingdom and the evolution of the war. The way things have turned for your father since you were born… if you need to marry to bring us peace, it’s a lesser evil, don’t you think?”

Noctis sighed.

“Has anyone asked for Luna’s opinion anyway? Or am I just marrying Ravus through her?”

“Noct… this is precisely the kind of things you can’t say in public.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He still couldn’t stop thinking them, though.

But he didn’t want to fight with Ignis—actually, he wished he could sit with him on one of the huge armchairs of the living room and discuss everything and nothing like they used to do in his apartment. He wanted to forget that they had emptied said apartment and that he probably wouldn't come back. He wanted to pretend for just one second that he still had control over his life. But the only thing he could still control was what got out of his mouth, so he abused this power for as long as he could without facing consequences. Even that time was running short, now.

He felt like he was being locked up in cages smaller and smaller, and would not survive the trip in one piece.

“So, are you helping me with that splint or not? Which pants do I put on under it?”

*

Of course, the dinner was a disaster. 

It wasn’t even his fault. His mind filled with angry turmoil was holding on to this thought as he ran away. He had been nice to everyone, smiled at all the right times, just to please Ignis and erase that wrinkle that had appeared between his brows. He knew how to care about others! But Ravus… Ravus always had to make him regret his misconduct one hundredfold, it was so unfair, so unfair, he hadn’t ask for all of this to happen to him! He hadn’t asked for anything at all! Hands shaking in the cold night air, he unlocked the barrier between the upper bridge and the intermediary one, and kept running towards the stern of the ship, as far as he could from the dining room. 

Right, he hadn’t apologized for his attitude during the afternoon. On the other side, it was just a cake. Why did it matter to choose the cake that Lunafreya and him would eat to their wedding? They could ask her directly! It had to please her too! Noctis shouldn’t have been so unpleasant, sure, but the others could also forgive him sometimes. He was the one going to his wedding, he should have been stressed and unpleasant rather than them, he had the right to be.

Ravus should also apologize for reacting so fast and strongly, instead of appeasing the situation. Ravus was acting like a child. Exactly like him.

Tears clouded his vision but if he stopped running now he would just find himself in the middle of the bridge for no reason and would have nothing else to do that go back to his room. It was the fear of looking stupid that pushed him to keep going, open the second barrier and reach the lower bridge. People in the lower floors did not stay outside long with this temperature. At the far end of this bridge he would have to stop but at least no one would be seeing him. The quiet sound of the propeller would cover his sobs.

And his leg was clearly aching now, it hadn’t stop aching during the dinner. He had a real excuse for not being patient. What did Ravus have as an excuse for being such a cunt? Was it him who always fell in sick and felt his joints stiffen year after year? It wasn’t him, either, that was forced to marry a girl he hadn’t seen in years to pretend his kingdom was still allowed dignity. He didn’t have anything to complain about.

So Noctis ran and ran, with his bad leg and his tense back, with his cloudy vision and his cold cheeks. He ran until he reached the guardrail separating the bridge from the foam and the water. and because he still didn’t want to stop, he started climbing the railguard, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update of 2017, woohoo!   
> Tell me what you guys think <3


	3. The water

Prompto was lying on the bridge when he heard someone run past him.

He stayed in place when Holly left to watch over the engines, and when Dave and Gladio decided to take the conversation in a more quiet corner. Prompto knew exactly what meant that voice Gladio took when he wanted to “take the conversation somewhere else” and, despite the cold, he preferred to avoid their room for now. They shared it with two other guys but Prompto also knew how Gladio could be when he really wanted something.

Prompto was still on the bridge by precaution, but also because he wanted to take some long-exposure pictures of the stars, see if the slow movement of the boat could bring out something interesting. The result wasn’t very convincing, which explained why he wasn’t really focused on his activities and noticed the sobs and sniffs of the person who had just run in front of him without paying him any attention. He sat up to look.

The shape of his shoulders seemed to indicate a boy, but he was barely visible against the dark canvas of the night. Prompto watched him run without stopping until he reached the guardrail, and he was going to go back to his camera and forget about the silhouette, when the guy raised a leg, and then another, to climb the barrier.

Prompto emitted a small surprised scream and sit back up on the desk chair. The hands of the guy were still holding the rail but his arms were tense and his body towering over the water. The boat was very quiet, thanks to the efforts of all of Lucis’ best engineers to build a silent propeller, but even the slight sound of the water hitting the metal suddenly sounded like a terrifying racket.

“Wait!” Prompto said, scrambling on his feet and stumbling to the end of the bridge. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”

He finally started running towards the silhouette but a voice screamed “Leave me alone!” and he stopped dead in his tracks.

He was close enough to notice a few details, now—could see a man about his age, dark hair and a pale skin, a suit that looked perfectly tailored… more surprising, a golden object was curling around his left knee. Obviously it wasn’t the kind of person Prompto could expect to see on that part of the boat.

“Don’t come closer, or I jump,” the rich guy said with a trembling and rather unconvincing voice.

Prompto wasn’t in position to decide whether or not he was bluffing, though, so he kept his distances while his heart jumped in his chest. He wasn’t really going to jump, was he?

“You shouldn’t… do that… it’s… it’s really very cold.”

“I know,” the other gritted his teeth. 

“Your body is gonna be paralyzed and then you’ll drown,” Prompto insisted, feeling the words escape his mouth without consulting his brain. From where he was standing, he couldn’t see the water, but he knew what it looked like—pitch black, with white foam forming at the surface.

“I’m well aware.”

Prompto started jumping from one feet to another. What was he supposed to do? He really wasn’t expecting this. He thought it would just be a nice trip, not one where people tried to jump off the ship…

“Listen, you can’t do that… if you jump now, I’ll have to jump to save you, and… it’s really cold, and I don’t know how to swim… it’s really not pleasant to drown, you know? When I was a baby, I… I swear, you don’t want that. Please, get down there, I mean, come back on the bridge… I’m sure we can find a way around… whatever this is? Can’t we?”

He kept anxiously looking as he babbled incoherently, hoping to find someone to help him. If only Gladio had been there! He would have helped… Gladio could have grabbed that guy with one arm and pull him back on the boat and nobody could have protested. Prompto only had his big mouth to help him and he knew that what came out of it half of the time was ridiculous nonsense. 

“Why do you care, anyway? What does it have to do with you?”

“Well, I… because... ”

He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t explain it all to a stranger. The tube, the feeling of the viscous liquid filling his throat and his lungs; sometimes he still woke up in the middle of the night feeling like he couldn’t breathe, had to force himself in inhale. Of course, if that guy jumped at this hour of the night, he would be dead before he even had the time to regret drowning. Prompto couldn’t say that either. He had to find something.

Taken by a sudden impulse, he started getting out of his boots and let his jacket fall on the floor.

“Well, I’m a witness now, I don’t have a choice anymore. If I let you here, I’ll be haunted forever, so… please…”

The rich boy seemed to consider the argument, but his eyes were still locked on the dark waves. Approaching slowly, Prompto saw him exhale a small cloud of white steam. He had been crying, he was still crying. Damn, he hadn’t been bluffing at all, right? What could Prompto do? The ground was cold already under his socks. And he couldn’t really jump in the water with him, that would just kill them both… he really couldn’t lose this, now.

“Okay. Okay, right.”

the soft voice of the guy lifted a huge weight off Prompto’s chest.

“Really? Of thank the Astrals, I really don’t know what I would have done if you had jumped, actually. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that? Can I come closer?”

He was still speaking too much. He took a step forward as the stranger nodded, then another, and finally he could reach his arm and grab his sleeve and his wrist. It was a thin, bony wrist, and so cold. Prompto had spent all his years with Gladio and his friends and none of them were that refined. What a shame, did he surprise himself thinking, how sad it would have been to see someone so fragile break against the waves...

The stranger turned his leg and let go of the guardrail with his other hand to turn around. Then, a sinister, metallic sound resonated in the air.

In a second, Prompto registered a soft, pained groan. An uncontrolled motion downwards. And suddenly, it was all the delicate silhouette that fell on itself, slid off the rail, dived towards the dark turmoil. Prompto felt his own weight being pulled forwards, his ribs painfully hit the rail. Holding his hand, the stranger was now hanging in the air, his other hand barely grabbing the lowest bars, his legs handing uselessly and his jacket flapping in the wind. He raised an almost incredulous look towards Prompto, whose heart was now beating so fast he felt like throwing up.

“Oh no,” he breathed.

The guy he was holding had the same reaction at the same time.

“I got you!” Prompto screamed. “It’s alright! We’re going to… Help! Please! Hold on to me, don’t worry! I’ll drag you up, okay? It’s going to be fine…”

It wasn’t fine at all. He seemed even more panicked than the guy he was holding, but maybe it was the shock. That, or the fact that the stranger couldn’t know that Prompto didn’t have any strength in his arms, that he could let loose of him at any moment and send him to a certain death and then he’d have to live with it and, really, if only Gladio was there...

He pulled with all his strength and felt the weight in his hand come up. A metallic sound indicated him that the guy had grabbed the rail. He pulled again, until he could lift him over it. Then he grabbed the collar of his jacket, put an arm under his armpits and hoisted him on the boat. They rolled on the varnished wood of the bridge.

Prompto let out a long breath as he pressed his forehead against the cold, wet tie of the man he had just saved. He had saved him. It really happened! He had just saved someone! He had made it… his breathing became more erratic as he felt himself smile, and an exhausted laugh rose in his chest.

“You alright?” he asked, out of breath, without even raising his head up.

“I can’t move,” the other grumbled, but his voice sounded much less panicked than when he was bending over the water and Prompto took it as a positive thing.

He sat back up the moment the security was arriving. Two guards, trotting up with their chainmails and their helmets rocking on their skulls, and suspicious looks on their faces.

“You called for help?”

One of them approached Prompto, the other bent over the man still lying on the ground, where his chest rose up and down in an irregular manner and his face was stuck in a pained expression. The guard let out a surprised scream.

“It’s the prince!”

“What?” said the other soldier.

“The prince?” Prompto repeated.

For the first time since he had seen him run, Prompto turned to the face of the guy he had just pulled back on board and detailed his traits. the dark hair, the pale skin, the thin lips. The expensive suit. The golden ornament around his knee. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t say anything. The prince. The prince!

The expressions of the guard became even harsher as they both turned to Prompto.

“What exactly were you doing to the prince?”

*

The first person to arrive was the blond man in his golden armor, the captain of the guard. In a second, Prompto took in the details. An arrogant, mannered man, caring about his appearance more than about his competences. A strawman from Niflheim, placed here to give orders and create the illusion of a strong and powerful hierarchy. Right after him came the man in white, and it was obviously him at the top of the food chain. There was something similar about them but he exuded power. The smaller one took a step forward and clasped his hands together.

“Well? What have we here?”

While waiting for more adapted figures of authorities to arrive, the two magitek guards had managed to put the prince back into a sitting position, but when they tried to put him on his feet he started screaming, so they just carried him to the nearest bench. The whole ordeal had kept them busy enough to make them forget about Prompto’s presence, allowing him to simply look over their shoulder. Of course he couldn’t expect the same attitude from the captain, and the man pointed at him right away.

“Is he the cause of all this? What are you waiting for, handcuff him!”

Prompto still jumped at the words. “What? Hey, no!”

“No defense for you,” the guard simply said, grabbing his wrists.

“Hey,” Noctis called, straightening himself on the bench. But the man in white was bent over him, apparently worried about his state—or pretending to be—and he couldn’t move.

Before Prompto could react more, another man quickly arrived. He immediately kneeled next to the prince, without a single look for the rest of the group. He was holding a pair of crutches and handed them to him.

“Noctis are you alright?”

Prompto raised an eyebrow at the familiarity with which the man was talking to the prince. He didn’t know anyone rich enough to be invited to the Insomnian court and it was the first time he could look behind the curtain. So there were people who were on a first name basis with the prince of Lucis? 

“Ignis,” the prince sighes. “I’m fine, stop freaking out. It hurts a bit but it’s going away already.”

“That’s absolutely inadmissible !” the Nif captain claimed, trying to look down on Prompto even though he was smaller than him. “What makes you believe you can put your dirty hands on the prince of Lucis?”

“Ravus,” the prince of Lucis mumbled. “Tell your lapdog to calm down.”

The man in white looked down at the prince.

“Highness, you really aren’t in position to take this kind of decision—”

“He didn’t do anything, Ravus, he… he saved me.”

“Saved you?” the blond captain repeated.

“Yes,” the prince shot back. “He saved me. I was…”

He lost a bit of his verve realizing he was going to have to explain himself now.

“I was… I wanted to… there was a dolphin.”

“A dolphin?” Ravus snorted.

“Yeah, I just wanted to keep an eye on it but it was moving fast, so I leaned over the railing and… I… I slipped. I mean, the splint went loose and… if that guy… if he hadn’t seen me, I would have fell in the water.”

The man with the glasses, the one the prince had called Ignis, turned to Prompto and stared at him with intense green eyes, before looking at the guards as if he was just noticing their presence. Prompto moved his weight from one foot to the other, feeling terribly nervous under this gaze, and ever more so when the man approached him, royally ignoring the nif captain.

“Is it truly what happened?” he calmly asked, staring up and down at Prompto. He didn’t look quite convinced which Prompto found strange—the prince had talked, wasn’t he supposed to always be right? Why would anyone care about the opinion of a commoner?

“Y-yeah,” he gulped. “That’s... exactly what happened.”

“Wow,” the captain said, “that's an incredible story for sure. The prince puts himself in danger fish and ends up saved by a nocturnal commoner! Who would believe this! We can all go back to our usual activities…”

“Of course,” Ignis mused, still sounding unconvinced. “Ravus ? Could you please bring the prince back inside?”

He made a gesture towards the man in white, who frowned disapprovingly but didn't find the courage to disobey the order. While he helped the prince back on his feet, Ignis reported his attention back to Prompto.

“I fear we have very little to offer to a hero like you, but if you allow it, may I invite you for dinner with us one of those nights? We largely have enough chairs for a few more guests and it would be my pleasure to introduce you to any person it would please you or benefit you to meet.”

“Now this,” the captain commented, “promises to be interesting…”

“Loqi, you can go now, thank you.”

If at first Prompto had believe that the man in white (Ravus, apparently - he probably should remember it) was the one giving the orders, he was obviously wrong. Clearly this guy was the closest to the prince and on top of the food chain. He looked so young, but emitted such a natural authority that refusing his offer seemed risky. Prompto had to force himself to swallow once again. 

“It would be... an honour, erm... sir…”

“Do not tie yourself up in knots with formalities,” Ignis answered. “We are perfectly able to show indulgence towards those who have not learned about proper etiquette. You might want to put your boots back on, however, before you or someone stumbles on them.”

Prompto looked down. He was still only wearing socks, all the agitation around him had made him forget about the cold wind blowing on his toes.

“Funny, isn't it?” Ignis pointed out with a discreet smile. “The prince almost falls off the boat but you still find the time to get out of your shoes and jacket.”

Prompto tensed. Shit, he was going to die now. But the young man simply offered him one last pointed look - an intense, but not threatening one - before he turned around go join the others. Prompto remained alone on the bridge, chicken-skinned and a weight in the stomach. 

Gladio was never going to believe this...

*

He had been stupid. So utterly, completely stupid! Of course he had no intention or actually jump off the boat. He simply was angry at Ravus for making him cry during dinner, and angry at himself because he was tired of crying all the time; he had to do something symbolic, a cry for help. But this was the worst idea he ever had. What would he have done if no one had come? If no one had been there to convince him to go back to safety, no one to catch him when he slipped? Noctis had wanted to avoid everyone but now that he was safely sitting in the huge chair of his suite, wrapped into the blanket Ignis had found for him, he suddenly realized that he was only there thanks to a complete nobody who had just been nice enough.

Stupid knee, and stupid head with all the stupid ideas inside.

He didn’t hear Ravus approach—it’s only when his boot entered Noctis’s sight that he looked up and found him close. He had put his coat and armor off; now that he was only wearing jeans and a black cotton t-shirt, he looked much lees threatening, and younger too. Noctis looked away. Ravus might have abandoned the decorum but he was still Ravus, and Noctis was probably good for a lecture nos. Prince of Lucis, responsibilities, blah blah blah, unconscious of his own value, should stop acting like his life did not matter…

“We’ve taken a wrong start, you and I,” Ravus said, sitting in the other armchair. 

Noctis almost snorted. He did not expect this.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Ravus sighed.

“I know I am not always the easiest to live with… and as prestigious and technologically advanced as it is, this boat is still taking you to your wedding, and to that peace treaty, with every passing second. I understand that you might find this arrangement difficult to swallow, difficult to bear with. I was… well, no, I wasn’t exactly in the same situation as you are, obviously, but I know how it feels to see your kingdom being taken away, you know?

Noctis briefly nodded. He didn’t want to hear Ravus’s excuses, but he could admit this. Ravus exhaled deeply and leaned against the armchair, putting a hand in his jeans’ pocket.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you about it, but… I thought… let’s forget about Niflheim for a second. I have something for you.”

He pulled out a small black object that dangled down a chain and made Noctis open his eyes wide.

“That’s—!”

“The ring of Lucis. It is.”

Noctis stared at the ring like it was going to disappear. He couldn’t believe it. He had only ever seen it in pictures of course. The ring had been lost by his grandfather when Niflheim had attacked with its Magitek army; Noctis wasn’t even born at this time. His father had talked about it at length when he was a kid however, repeating the story until Noctis could fully grasp its importance and its significance. And it was the promise made by Niflheim to give the ring back that had pushed his father to accept the peace treaty. But now Ravus revealed that he had it all his time, as he was living in Insomnia?

“It has been kept in a secure location by the Nox Fleuret family since it was taken from you,” Ravus explained. “It is a sacred relic, after all, and even Niflheim knows it belongs to a temple. But now it’s here. And as the empire promised, it will be given to you on the day of the wedding. No lies.”

But as Noctis held a hand to touch it, Ravus held it back from him. And he kept it away from arm’s length while he stared at Noctis with authority.

“I am offering you an arrangement, not a gift. I promise I will be polite and even nice to you, and if you behave correctly during the rest of this trip, I also engage myself to give you the ring as soon as we put our feet on proper ground. Consider this offer a proof of good will.”

He put the ring back into his pocket and stood up. For a second, Noctis indulged in the idea of throwing Ravus on the ground and grab the ring with force. But he almost died tonight, his leg was still aching. He was a wreck; he could never win against Ravus.

“Everything you’re doing, it’s for this object, Noctis. You better remember this next time you’re having another stupid idea.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Gladio will sleep with everyone in his fic" has been brought to you by the Assassin's festival  
> hope you guys enjoy!


	4. The scar

“Oh, Prompto”, Gladio sighed, his hand pressing on Prompto’s knee to stop the nervous wiggling of his leg. “You’re making it really hard for me.”

Prompto tried raising his foot up to kick him in the shin, but Gladio’s strength was too intense. He had to settle for an exasperated look.

“I didn’t do anything! What is it this time?”

Honestly, this wasn’t exactly the reaction he expected. He had ended up sleeping outside once the excitation had finally fallen back down—and the air had finally started to warm up. And around midday, he finally could access the room to take a shower, clean himself up of the sea spray, before following Gladio back on the deck to eat a sandwich under the sun. And now that the sunlight shone on the scene, the events of the night seemed even more incredible—almost unreal. He hoped that talking to his friend would help him actually realize what had happened—but Gladio had others ideas in mind.

“You’re too innocent. That’s a scam, Prom. “One of these days” in their language, it means they don’t want to invite you, but they still want to look good, so they keep it vague and then they don’t have to actually commit. They’re glad you saved their prince, but you’re not gonna gain anything out of it, that’s how it works.”

“Wow, dude, so you spend one night with Dave and that turns you into a cynic democrat?”

Prompto surprised himself with the acidity in his tone. He didn’t mean to attack Gladio—nor Dave—but the surprising turn of the conversation had him fight to keep the upper hand. Gladio was supposed to be happy for him. Gladio had every occasion to meet interesting people and develop all sorts of relationships with them, because he was handsome and confident and everything Prompto wasn’t. Prompto only had an embarrassing refugee status and a mouth that never stopped talking. And now that something different happened to him, for once? Apparently it still wasn’t good.

“I didn’t ask for anything,” he insisted before Gladio had time to recover from the aggression. “They were the ones that offered, if they didn’t want to invite me they could’ve just said nothing at all, I… why would they just pretend, it’s stupid…”

But then he remembered the knowing look that the prince’s advisor had shot him after everyone was gone, and his stomach twisted. That guy knew that Prompto had lied. He must have noticed immediately. That meant everything he said in public was just an act and… shit, maybe Gladio wasn’t entirely wrong…

Prompto let his shoulders fall with a sigh.

“I didn’t even know it was the prince… I just saw a guy about to jump…”

“Hey.” Gladio put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not saying you did something wrong. You did well. You don’t need them to approve of you, okay?”

Prompto let his body weigh against the hand. Gladio always had a warm skin and a reassuring strength, no wonder why everyone was gravitating around him. But who would want to spend time with Prompto?

“And you know, there’s gonna be plenty of other incredible things to experience when we arrive. No need to be so upset. You can still tell that story to impress your girls.”

“Yeah… I guess so.”

Taking a deep breath, Prompto straightened back up and pushed on his feet to stand up. His hands clapped as he tried to give himself a little more energy.

“Think I’m gonna go back to our room though, I’ve got half a night to catch up because of yo—”

He turned his head and clamped his mouth shut.

“Hum,” the prince said, hands in the pockets of his cargo pants.

“Hum,” Prompto said.

“I can come back later, if you’re busy…”

“No!” Prompto screamed, voice so high-pitched he immediately wished he could bury himself somewhere. “No I’m not doing anything… I can do whatever you… I mean… you decide…”

The prince actually laughed and Prompto closed his eyes, praying to the Six to come back in time for just thirty seconds. Gladio was going to mock him for this for the next thirty years.

“Could we… walk for a bit? Together?” the prince asked, and Prompto almost pinched himself awake. Almost.

He just turned slightly to Gladio, who, eyes wide, nodded in his direction.

“Oka… as you wish. Hum, Your Majesty.”

His Majesty shook his head.

“That’s “Your Highness” for a prince. But you can just call me Noctis.”

*

“All alone? All the time?”

“Oh, it wasn’t all that bad. I would eat whatever I wanted and bring back all the cute strays home…”

“Yeah, me too, but I also had people to take care of me…”

“Oh, I get it, mister prince! What’s that, you have a royal privilege to make me feel bad about my childhood?”

Noctis laughed. “Dude, you don’t even treat me like a prince.”

He must admit that he didn’t look like one at all. Black jeans and t-shirt, walking with the blond boy, it was almost as if he was just a normal dude with a friend. Prompto, since that was his name, had been very nervous at first, but Noctis had managed to lead the conversation to make him speak about himself, and as they discussed simple things like school, friends of shitty jobs, Prompto had finally relaxed. Maybe a little too much, actually—Noctis didn’t expect him to mention his neglecting parents so casually. His problems looked stupid, now that he saw how this guy lived his life…

“Hey, I wanted to ask… how’s your leg?”

Prompto’s voice pulled Noctis out of his own thoughts. He instinctively lowered his eyes to look at his weak knee.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It just does shit like that once in a while. We had… terrible timing, yesterday, that’s all…”

“I see…”

Prompto didn’t seem convinced and Noctis couldn’t blame him. The timing wasn’t the only problem. Noctis felt like Ignis had repeated it to him for hours—they would be away from any infrastructure, but there was a special hospital room on the boat and they could make an emergency call in case anything happened, everything had been planned so Noctis could receive all the necessary treatments. Of course a doctor could be escorted from the land to the Hydrean in no time if Ignis or Noctis requested it. Since the ring had been lost, the entire kingdom had to adjust to the fragile health of the Lucis Caelum line; even the smallest villages had perfectly equipped hospitals, and despite the war, many illnesses had been eradicated and the general life expectancy had risen significantly. Through some sort of cosmic irony, the kingdom benefited from the weakness of its ruler, because the Gods forbid that the king caught a cold during an official tour. As a general rule, the royal family wasn’t allowed to suffer from anything, anywhere, at any time. 

And Noctis had found nothing better to do than to climb on that railing and almost fall into the water. 

“I wanted to thank you, by the way.”

Prompto blinked. He, too, had been lost in thoughts.

“Oh… sorry, what?”

“I said, thank you. For what you did yesterday. I mean, saving me, but also… being discreet about it. Ravus doesn’t need to know about my… moment of weakness.”

He couldn’t help but snicker. Holy shit.

“Moment of weakness,” he repeated. “Great, now I’m talking like Ignis…”

Prompto was starting to play with the hem of his jacket. Shit. Noctis was making him nervous again. He already looked like a child when he took his bad mood on Ignis or Cor, but what could a simple citizen think of him now?

“Sorry. I know what you’re thinking. Oh, he’s the prince, what kind of problems could he have that justify throwing himself off a boat…”

Prompto let out a laugh, embarrassment clear on his face.

“No, not at all… dude, being a prince must be so difficult compared to taking pictures… I know for sure I couldn’t do it…”

Noctis looked at him, eyebrows raised. Prompto was staring at the horizon, his cheeks slightly flushed, like he was saying something wrong. He always had this look on his face, actually. Like he always felt guilty for something.

“And, I mean, the wedding?” he suddenly added. “I’ve seen Lady Lunafreya on TV before but that’s… wow! Must be something to marry her for real.”

Noctis lowered his head and followed the foam that accumulated on the sides of the boat. Of course he had seen her on TV. She always was on TV, with her pretty blonde curls and her big blue eyes and her radiant smile… everyone loved Luna. Her face managed to make the Lucians forget that they had lost the war. Everyone but him.

Again, he was pulled out of his thought by Prompto’s face approaching his.

“That’s, like… a political union, right?” he asked in a lower voice. “That’s how we get peace… but you never met her before?”

Noctis opened his mouth to answer, but closed it right after. He knew Ignis’ arguments by heart now; they came to his lips before he could even think about it. But he didn’t need them here. This guy didn’t know him, and they probably would never meet again once the ship arrived… 

But he also couldn’t trust any person, even someone who saved his life.

So, he said:

“We’ve met, actually. Years ago. I was a child. That was… I don’t know how old you are? You might not remember; that’s when the Marilith attacked a royal car?”

“I’m twenty, dude, but that doesn’t ring… oh, yeah! That daemon that was controlled by Niflheim? The first they used, right?”

“Yeah. Well, I was in the car. I got hurt, and I was brought to Tenebrae to be healed. To Fenestala. So I actually met Luna at this time.”

And everyone always told Noctis that he was much more reserved after the attack, but some of his better memories were from this time in Tenebrae, just after it. When he was there, he was provided with constant care and treatments; he literally bathed in the magic of the Oracle. Things had gone downhill after that. When the empire had attacked the last royalist city of Tenebrae, when he had to leave and Luna refused to follow and let herself be captured… after that, he couldn’t lie down in his bed without feeling his back hurting, painkillers alone weren’t efficient enough, and he spent hours in the dark, wondering what he could have done to not abandon his only friend…

“So, yeah”, he sighed, “we stayed in touch as best as we could. But we hadn’t really planned on getting married. Certainly not like that…”

“So you’re in love with each other since then?”

The question took Noctis by surprise and he let out a laugh. He immediately regretted it.

“What?” Prompto asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, that’s not…”

“You don’t like her, actually? That’s the problem? Or she doesn’t like you! Oh, that’s it, right? She hates you, actually. She has another boyfriend and doesn’t want to marry you but she’s forced...”

“No! Stop,” Noctis laughed. “Where do you even find ideas like that? Luna is nice, really nice, and I don’t think she could hate anyone at all. And she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I mean, before we knew about the wedding she had no reason to hide it from me and she didn’t say anything, so I guess this isn’t a problem. It’s just…”

Noctis let out a long breath and looked at the horizon. There was nothing but blue as far as he could see, and the Hydrean looked like it was leaving for a completely different world. Maybe it would never reach any destination at all, lost at sea.

Maybe Noctis could talk, after all?

“It’s just weird, because I’m getting married and half the kingdom is going to be given to the empire and I feel like… everyone expects me to be happy and satisfied with this outcome, and at the same time… I think they’d hate me if I only thought about my happiness, and Luna’s, and not… all those people who will suddenly have to follow Niflheim’s rules and probably be abused by their soldiers… and Ravus hates me already, and I don’t even know why, and Ignis… Ignis is my friend, but he always thinks in numbers and tactics and… I guess he’s worried about this too, because from a political standpoint the situation really isn’t as ideal as we try to pretend it is, but I can’t help him because he’s the only one who actually knows things, I’m just… I’m the nice puppet prince who’s getting married… that’s just too much to bear at once, I can’t do it. I don’t know, I feel like I can’t breathe, sometimes.”

As if to give weight to his words, he took a long breath, and that’s when the small click on his left took him by surprise and made him turn his head.

Prompto lowered his camera and blushed furiously.

“I’m sorry… I swear I was really listening to you! I just saw that ray of light on your face and… you weren’t moving so I thought I could just…”

His voice gradually turned to a strangled whisper and died, and it was clear on his face that if the boat had bumped into something and sunken immediately, he would have been relieved. It was so clear on his face for a second, actually, that Noctis burst out laughing.

“Well then, at least let me see if I look good…”

Before Prompto could react, Noctis grabbed the camera and pulled the strap over blond hair. There were a lot of buttons on this thing but he quickly picked up on how to navigate through the menus.

“Let’s see that… hey, it’s quite nice… dude, you’re hiding a lot of stuff in this!”

Beaming at Prompto, Noctis left his position to find himself and the camera a darker spot where he could see more details on the screen. From the corner of his eye, he saw Prompto follow a second late, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Noctis clicked on the left arrow and laughed.

“Oh, I get it now. That’s how you approach girls, right? You play the photograph card and ask them to pose for you?”

Prompto let out a terrified whine.

“That’s not what you think!” He tried to take the camera away but Noctis bent over it to protect it and, despite his general behaviour, Prompto wasn’t going to grab the prince of Lucis by the shoulders to manhandle him. He had to settle for just standing here and flapping his hands around. Noctis smiled at him.

“They’re quite good… I mean, I don’t know shit about photography, I’ll admit, but… it looks really good.”

It wasn’t entirely true—he had lessons when he was younger about all the paintings hanging around the Citadel in Insomnia, and he had picked up some basics about art and composition in between the long speeches about the history of his line. And for what it was worth, it seemed like Prompto was talented.

“Well, it’s just…” Prompto swallowed hard. “It’s just easier when they’re naked… less distractions and the contrasts are more intense, and the details stand out more… wait, look…”

Apparently the compliment had given him the courage to gently raise his hands and let Noctis give him the camera back. His thumbs immediately flew to the arrow stick and he navigated through the pictures until he found the one he wanted.

“There. That’s Holly, she’s working at the power plant in Lestallum and she has these muscular arms because she moves all these heavy machines and stuff… you can’t really see it on that screen, but she’s got real bad burns on her elbows and wrists… I should have more photos somewhere… I know it’s ridiculous when I say it like that, but…”

“No, I get it.” Noctis pointed at the screen as Prompto passed through another series. “You didn’t ask her to get her clothes off?”

Prompto stopped, turned his head to him.

“What, Cindy? No! Look, see that yellow jacket? How it shines under the sun? And her hair, look how her hair frames her face…”

“I’m looking, dude.”

He wasn’t, though; he looked at Prompto. It didn’t matter, actually, if the girls were naked or not. What mattered was the way Prompto’s blue eyes were shining now, how his anxious quirks had completely disappeared, and how intense his voice was as he pointed every detail to Noctis. To be fair, Noctis had expected him to try to justify himself from taking pictures of naked girls, but he was over this already, scrolling through the memory card without hesitating a second; he knew what he was searching for, what he wanted to show, the rest was just a detail.

And Noctis was probably stupid to wonder if he really had slept with some of those girls. Prompto clearly saw something else in his models than what Noctis saw. He looked down at the screen once more, trying to catch up with Prompto’s explanations.

“That’s not a girl, right?” he pointed out as Prompto typed faster on the arrows. The photograph stopped and came back to what Noctis had shown.

“Oh, no, that’s my friend Gladio… he had just got his tattoo finished at the time. I don’t think you can see at this size, but the skin was red and swollen around the lines…”

“That’s one hell of a tattoo.”

“Yeah, he’s like that. Always pretending he doesn’t feel pain.”

“I could believe it,” Noctis scoffed. “That’s one hell of a muscle mass too!”

“He was one of my first models, when I was learning. It was easier to ask him, I think he’d find any opportunity to take off his clothes… and, well, that’s real good training. Even when he was younger he’s always been huge. And, frankly, I can’t get enough of…”

Prompto stopped abruptly, and when Noctis looked at him, his cheeks were red and his expression unreadable.

Oh, that explained it all. 

“Everything alright?” Noctis asked, as Prompto didn’t move.

“What? Yeah,” Prompto mumbled. “Whatever, that’s not what I wanted to show, it must be… yes! That’s it. Look.”

He almost hit Noctis’ face with the camera and Noctis had to take the hint and drop the subject of Prompto’s handsome friend. On the pictures that Prompto was now showing, the same girl as before was taken from much closer, and Noctis could see the detail of her skin even on the small screen.

“See, that’s amazing. Zoom a bit if you want, like that. See, when skin burns and heals back, it’s like it’s folding…”

“Folding on itself, yeah. I know that.”

He must have been more aggressive than he intended because Prompto went quiet and took a small step back. Noctis made a face.

“You know how I said I was in that car when the Marilith attacked? Well, the car blew up. Flames everywhere.”

Truth be told, he was fascinated by what he saw on the screen. The light on the girl’s skin made the scar look so real, almost more than the one Noctis had on his back. He couldn’t see his own without a mirror or a picture. He could feel it under his fingertips if he tried to touch, but he couldn’t reconcile the image with the feeling. It felt like something alien, added to his body; a parasite. But the girl on the picture seemed… whole.

“Sorry,” Prompto said. “I didn’t think…”

“Nah… I’m sorry, you couldn’t know. I’m just… well, I know what it looks like, is all.”

“You still have the scar?”

Noctis raised an eyebrow. Prompto had resumed his shifting, but his expression wasn’t exactly nervous like it was before.

“If you want me to pose for you, I think you’re gonna need a bunch of authorizations and papers to fill up.”

Prompto’s face blushed again.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, if you want I’m not gonna spit on it, I... I mean! I can’t refuse if you ask, but I wasn’t trying to…”

“Relax, dude. I’m just fucking with you.”

Prompto bit his lip, still looking embarrassed.

“But… that’s not very princely of you, Highness…”

“Oh, fuck you.”

They started laughing at the same time. Noctis shoved the camera in Prompto’s hands to erase that shit-eating grin from his face, and their fingers brushed when he grabbed it.

Noctis let his own hands fall on each side of his body, feeling an electric current under his skin. Really, why must this boat arrive somewhere, why couldn’t it just… never ever stop?

“Noctis, I’ve searched for yo… oh. Hello.”

Ignis’ voice made Noctis jump and the look he shot him must be awful—a damning mix of shame, fear, embarrassment. But Ignis was looking at Prompto, and Prompto looked at Ignis with an expression even guiltier.

“Oh, yeah,” Noctis exclaimed when reality hit him back. “Hum, sorry Prompto, I sort of got carried away… I was supposed to come invite you… officially, I mean. If you still want to… have dinner with us, we were thinking, tomorrow night? Ignis thought you probably don’t have fitting clothes but he can lend you one of my suits…”

And now Ignis was looking at him, with the expression he always took when Noctis did something wrong and Ignis didn’t know if he should really come to his help.

“Indeed,” he still said after Noctis was finished making a fool of himself. “Prompto, right? I don’t think we have been properly introduced…” he held a hand towards the blond, who shook it after a moment. “I am Ignis Scientia, advisor of His Highness, and here to take care of everything he forgets to do. Amongst other things.”

He gratified Prompto of the trademark Perfect Smile, the one that made you believe he really was very well educated and sincerely-delighted-to-meet-you-sir, the one Noctis knew to mean he was going to keep a close eye on him. 

And in a second, the Hydrean was a cage again.

“Hum, Prompto,” Prompto answered with a weak voice. “Just Prompto.”

“Not even a last name?”

“... Argentum.”

Ignis was going to check his criminal record as soon as he was back in the suite. Noctis had to resist very hard the need to roll his eyes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, mister Argentum.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis sighed. “So you were coming to get me? Are we going?”

He had not needed anything more to hunch his shoulders again, put on his usual moody mask, and when Ignis turned his head and looked at him with disapproval, he only hunched more. 

“We are. I have to get you ready for tonight. Sir, if you’ll excuse His Highness…”

“Oh… yeah, sure, no problem,” Prompto stuttered. “We… see you tomorrow, then.”

Noctis wanted to look at him, smile at him, and tell him they’d see each other no matter what, but Ignis was there with his piercing eyes that could see right through them, and the magic had faded.

The bubble of oxygen he managed to salvage today would have to be enough.


	5. The snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I loved working on that part.

Prompto was lying on the bed with his hands covering his face and swas starting to look ridiculous. Gladio softly kicked him in the ribs and he barely reacted, except to let out a long, whiny sigh.

“Nooo,” he moaned for the tenth time of so “Why have I said yes? I'm gonna make a fool of myself! Gladio, how do I cancel a royal invitation?”

“I'm not helping. You put yourself in this situation, so now you get up and go see that guy. He said he was going to lend you a suit, right?”

“Even a suit won't make me look good! Gladio! You can't understand, you've never been ugly…”

“You're not ugly, Prompto,” Gladio sighed, kicking him a little harder. “B'sides, the prince has already sene you with your shitty clothes so it's to late to impress him now.”

The argument had at least the effect of seeing Prompto sit up on the bed, looking annoyed.

“But what am I even gonna talk about? There's gonna be so many people, and I can't show them my pictures, and I've done nothing else interesting in my life, the only reason I'll be here is because I talked a guy out of jumping off a boat, and it's not like I can tell them that either…”

“You know you can ask the guy who's gonna dress you up, right? He can teach you some tricks. That's how everyone survives these kinds of dinners.”

“Don't _you have_ some tricks for me?”

“What do you think I’m doing here? I precisely hang out on this deck because people here don’t give a fuck if you swear during dinner…”

Prompto went white.

“What if I swear in front of the prince by accident?”

Gladio gritted his teeth

“Just go, Prompto. If I see you before tomorrow morning you’ll sleep in the hallway.”

*

Of course Ignis had done everything he could to gather intel on that Prompto Argentum.

It hadn’t been difficult to build a file on him at all—his website with his pictures was the first search result and the following one was a Kupook profile full of selfies. Noctis couldn’t have found a worst new friend—Ignis could almost believe he was doing it on prupose. Ignis just had to look at the background on the pictures to conclude that the boy was settled in Lestallum for a few months. The older pictures showed other places throughout Lucis, and in the company of people each time different—except for that one face that kept coming back, with the very obvious scar on the side that rendered it unmistakable. When scrolling through even older pictures, Ignis could find some familiar Insomnian neighborhoods—but not the ones he used to frequent, these were residential areas for people of lower income, and restaurants of a lesser standing. 

The rest of Prompto’s life, Ignis had needed an extra effort to find. Adopted baby form a family in Insomnia, a solitary childhood… someone who probably would have lived a very simple and insignificant life, had he not crossed paths with Gladiolus Amicitia. 

That what had caught Ignis’ attention.

The Amicitias had left the royal court long before Ignis was even born. He only had known Cor Leonis as the king’s shield—Cor the Immortal, as the press named him, only was fifteen years old when he had been linked to Mors, and it had seemed natural that he was linked to Regis too when he took the throne: he wasn’t old enough to pretend having a heir at the time. Years had passed now however and he still wasn’t married—it was becoming more and more obvious that he would also become Noctis’ shield when the time came. 

The life of the king’s shield was linked to the one of its king through the benediction of the crystal—in a very literal sense. The shield couldn’t die as long as the king was alive, unless he gave his life to save him. Since the ring had been lost, the kings had become weaker and weaker. Mors had been caught up by old battle wounds, and Regis was not going to live old—but if the wedding with Lunafreya was successful, Noctis could maybe escape that fate, and Cor might end up living to its nickname. As long as he was linked to a new king fast enough, he could serve many generations of kings. Maybe no one would know any other shield than Cor the Immortal.

But despite that, Ignis had seen a lot of old pictures of Regis when he was a young man, accompanied with a young Clarus Amicitia, at a time when he was still supposed to take the role of the shield after his father. And the likeness he shared with his son on Prompto Argentum’s pictures was so obvious Ignis couldn’t stop staring.

He knew the Amicitia had to leave the court after the terrible strategic mistake that had cost them the ring during the battle of Cavaugh, so he knew that, theorically, Clarus must have had children who had escaped the spotlight they should have lived in. But finding that child, out of nowhere, because a photograph had been there just at the right moment to save the prince for a certain death… that was a very strange coincidence.

Ignis doubted Prompto knew anything about the crystal and how its magic worked. But that didn’t mean Ignis wasn’t going to try and learn a little more about what he was doing here.

When he heard knowking at the door, he closed his laptop with a satisfied smile.

*

Prompto had never entered such a beautifully decorated space. Even the Leville in Lestallum—where he could only sleep for one night because of the price—looked blank in comparison with this.

Ignis’ room in the royal suite was perfectly clean and the light was dimmed and relaxing. Prompto could look at himself in the largest full-length mirror he had ever seen, with a bronze frame and a small light at the top. The carpet under his feet was so soft he could have slept on it. And of course, the charcoal grey suit he had just put on was the same kind of perfect than the background. 

On his right, Ignis let out an approving noise, then started walking around him.

“Yes… a bit large at the shoulders, as expected, but I knew it would overall fit well… you and Noctis are the same height, I could tell as soon as I saw you. And nobody expects you to wear tailored clothes anyway so they certainly won’t notice that the suit is based on the prince’s measurements…”

He reached for the back of the jacket with two fingers, pulled on it a little, and frowned.

“I could maybe get that part to fall better if I just had a needle…”

“It’s already perfect!” Prompto screamed, pulled out of his haze. He already couldn’t believe that he was wearing a suit originally made for the prince, but he would die on the spot if Ignis started arrangeint it to fit him. He briefly wondered if Noctis already had worn that suit or if he was the first one to use it. The blood that was rushing at his cheeks caught Ignis’ attention, and he apparently had the ability to read minds, because he answered:

“I brought enough of Noctis’ new suits with us when we packed for the trip, thinking ahead for the time he’d had to stay in Altissia for the wedding. It’s basic etiquette to always pack too many, actually. I could absolutely sacrifice one to have you correctly dressed for the night”

“...sacrifice?” Prompto parrotted with an uncontrollable raising of eyebrows.

Ramuh’s beard, his expressions looked even more ridiculous now that he was all dolled up. He absolutely needed to be careful once he’d be in the dining room.  
Ignis nodded.

“Well, yes. Noctis can’t be seen in a suit that has been worn by someone else before him; what kind of reputation would that give him?”

Prompto couldn’t help but glance at the loveseat that occupied the corner of the room, and he wished it was close enough of him so he could faint directly on it, right now. 

“It’s just... it must have cost a fortune.”

“It’s paid by the crown—it’s part of the business expenses. That kind of things happens all the time, you know. You certainly aren’t the first person I have to lead an intervention on to save appearances at the last minute, everyone is bound to a fashion faux-pas at some point in their life… and to be completely honest, I don’t even remember how much this one suit cost.”

So that was official now: everytime Igis opened his mouth, Prompto wanted to disappear a little more. His unease was easily readable on his face, and Ignis started laughing.

“You really aren’t used to all that, are you?”

He was laughing, but Prompto realized he wasn’t laughing at him. He raised a hand, arranged the collar, and then smiled at Prompto in the mirror, over his shoulder.

“It’s going to be fine. This is just a dinner, and nobody’s out there to get you. I will be here to help, and Noctis won’t let anyone bother you. You’re safe.”

In a second, the soft expression he was showing was replaced with an intense green gaze, and he turned Prompto around to put a hand in his hair.

“Now, let’s see what I can do with that without spending too much time on it… I still have to dress his Highness later, and believe me when I say Noctis is much more difficult than you when it comes to suits.”

 

The reception hall of the higher deck had nothing to compare with the common room of the deck in which Gladio and him spent their time.

A huge staircase led to the hall where all the walls were covered with wooden panels so heavily lacquered people could almost see themselves in it. Large columns wrapped in fake creeper plants were supporting a terrace with a golden railing, and a large door underneath, made of wood and glass, led to a second room filled with seats and coffee tables. Prompto walked down the stairs, trying to look everywhere at once to absorb the most of the experience before he was kicked out. He hadn’t taken his camera with him, and was thankful for it.These people all around him were used to have their picture taken, not take picture themselves, and Prompto would have quickly found himself in a difficult situation had he tried to immortalize the moment. 

He still wished he could take a picture. The glass showed him a distorted reflection of himself, with his blond hair combed on the side, and his suit—Noctis’ suit, but the suit Noctis would never ever wear now so it was almost his, right?He had managed to keep the leather bracelet around his wrist, hidden under the shirt’s sleeve, and it felt reassuring, but Prompto still felt like he was someone else in these clothes and he would have liked to keep an image of it.

He also wished Gladio was there. He had spent the entire day talking with the machinists and negotiating with the cooks to organise a party with a little more than what they had in the common room. They had only met for a few minutes in the afternoon, when Gladio had come to the bedroom to take a shower and found Prompto panicking. It was the first time Prompto actually did something without him, at least something as important at this. Dinner with the prince of Lucis! Gladio kept insisting that his own name held no value anymore and that he had nothing to do with all of this world, but Prompto still thought he would have been much more comfortable here than Prompto was. If only because Gladio was comfortable everywhere. He would have reassured him, or at least they could have panicked together.

Ignis had told Prompto to leave first, because Noctis was going to take a long time getting ready and Prompto didn’t have to stay for this. He also added that the prince was going to come back from the lounge with Ravus, and he didn’t have to add that Ravus probably wouldn’t appreciate seeing Prompto hang around the suite. 

That was why Prompto was now alone in the middle of a crowd where he knew no one and had no idea how to talk to anyone. All the men were older, all the women were wearing incredible dresses that he wished he could see under a sunset light, and they all talked to each other with small smiles and calm hand gestures that were very different from what Prompto knew. He observed the closest man, making sure he couldn’t notice him as he tried to reproduce his posture. One hand in his back, the other close to his chest, he didn’t have a pipe though so was he supposed to stay like this? He straightened his back and tried moving his hand to go along with the other’s speech. The man was talking about the mines he had just acquired in Balouve and what he was planning to do to give the local economy a boost, and Prompto didn’t even know where Balouve was. A hard lump started forming in his throat and he forced himself to breathe slowly, but what was he going to talk about during this dinner? That was a terrible gift that Ignis had offered him, and the promise of free food didn’t quite compensate for the fear of not belonging.

He looked up at the stairs—maybe he could still leave as if nothing had happened, before anyone had recognized him—and that was the moment Noctis arrived. 

His suit was black and embroidered with thin silver lines, enhancing the natural shape of his body, and Prompto realized that this was what the suit he wore was supposed to look like, this second skin that accompanied every move. Ignis apparently hadn’t tried to comb Noctis’ wild hair, it floated around his face and followed its jaw. His knee was locked into the golden splint that Prompto had seen him with when they first met. 

He looked around until he found Prompto, and his face lit up. 

Wiping hands on a suit jacket probably wasn’t very respectful so Prompto tried wiping them against each other, with no success at all. Noctis walked down the stairs with that soft smile that Prompto had seen on his face several time during the afternoon they had spent together. He looked like he was perfectly in his place in this background and Prompto regretted not having his camera.

No. He rarely cared about people’s beauty—not in the way other people cared about it, anyway. This was a tool for him, the raw material he could bend into shape. But Noctis… Noctis was beautiful and not just in a way that made Prompto want to transform him into art. In just one second, his head was filled with a million questions such as, wasn’t the suit too big, was his hair still in place, wasn't’t his smile stupid, didn’t he look completely out of place? Wasn’t someone going to find him disgusting, standing next to the prince? Gods, he was a walking disaster, wasn’t he?

“Hey, you look real good in my clothes,” Noctis said and it was worse than everything Ignis could have told him. Prompto felt the blush creep up his cheeks, and Noctis laughed. “Don’t worry, nobody will notice. It almost looks like it was made for you.”

“The shoes are a bit small,” Prompto admitted, and Noctis laughed again.

That laugh was magic. Prompto’s stomach, who had decided to tie a knot inside him, slowly eased back in place.

“How long have you been waiting?”

“I’ve just arrived... I was just trying to find a corner to hide myself.”

“I know, it’s impressive, right? It’s a nightmare for me too, you know. These dinners are like a snake’s den.”

Noctis bent towards Prompto’s ear with a conspiratory expression, and Prompto felt his hand press against his shoulder blades to make him turn in the direction Noctis was looking at. 

“Over here,” Noctis pointed discreetly, “that”s Aranea Highwind. She says she’s an archaeologist, but she’s actually a bounty hunter and was recently hired by the empire. Ignis keeps an eye on her but she hasn’t done anything for now except drinking too much vodka and laugh at the bar with the two guys over there.” 

He was showing Prompto a very tall woman with silver hair, perched on insanely high heels and wearing a form-hugging suit. He turned him on his heels a bit more and pointed at another silhouette. Prompto already knew that gold and red armour, and this wavy blond hair. That was the man who had tried to handcuff him.

“Loqi Tummelt, Brigadier General of Niflheim and captain of the magitek guard... he does everything Ravus tells him to do. But he’s from the army, so it’s hard to tell which one holds the gun to the other’s head… but yeah, he needs someone to give him orders or else he just fucks everything up. And the one he’s talking to is Caligo Ulldor, the nif general leading the occupation forces on Lucian territory.”

“Nobody here from our side?” Prompto laughed nervously.

“Yeah, you’re starting to feel it too, right? We have.. well, we have Cor over there, you know who he is... and he’s talkign to Sanya Yeagre, she’s a lucian scientist. She’s got a lot of interesting stuff to say about Niflheim actually, but she always ends up passed out drunk. We also have Monica Elshett, captian of the crownsguard, that’s the lady in uniform over there... she’s technically taking orders from Cor but since the guard didn’t come with us, I suppose she’s here as a representant of the Lucian court and not as a soldier. And the weird guy who’s trying to seduce the waitress there, that’s Dino Ghiranze. He was a journalist and now owns a jewelry business, he got rich thanks to it… well, actually, he got rich gathering all the dirty little secrets of the Lucian court while he sells diamonds to ladies from rich families, and selling them to sensationalist magazines. He’s still around because the people who could prove that it’s him are also the ones who don’t want to admit that everything he said was true. 

“That’s amazing, but that’s not an ally at all,” Prompto laughed.

“Yeah, right? The people who have embarked from Galdin are members of the lucian high society who want to go to Altissia… and the people that Niflheim has put on that boat are jailers.”

Prompto swallowed hard. He felt out of place here because he had no idea how to act like rich people, but Noctis had much better reasons than him to suffocate in such an environment. Throwing himself off a boat didn’t seem that unreasonable, suddenly.

“But!” Noctis continued with much more enthusiasm. “You’re here with me this time. That makes at least one interesting person to talk to tonight.”

He smiled again, a smile barely visible as he ducked his head at the same time, but it was enough to make Prompto realize why he couldn’t have refused the invitation. He wasn’t there to appreciate everyone in this room, much less to impress them. He was there to keep Noctis company. 

Forcing a smile on his own face, he offered his arm

“Well, your Majesty, where are we going then?”

Noctis laughed again, that low laugh that Prompto was starting to love.

“You’re supposed to offer your arm to the ladies, actually” he explained as he grabbed Prompto’s arm anyway. “That’s the polite way to help them walk with their dresses and high heels. But I’m the prince, and I have a bad knee, so I guess I need it twice as much…” 

And before he could even think about it, Prompto let himself be dragged by Noctis through the doors.

 

They walked across the room without looking at anything in particular, bathing in that sort of quiet noise that only existed in spaces made for rich people—conversations that didn’t need to raise voices or make large gestures, which Prompto had never understood. He didn’t stop to notice if anyone was looking at them, if anyone had noticed that the prince of Lucis was holding another guy’s arm, an unknown guy, in a suit that didn’t fit him. Noctis didn’t leave him time for that anyway, the only time he slowed down was when he needed to push the second door, at the other side of the room, to access the dinner room. Ignis, who had somehow managed to get there before them, appeared on the other side, and he looked down to where their arms were locked but didn’t show any emotion. 

“We have the table at the back of the room, as usual, Noctis. Have you seen Ravus when coming here?”

Noctis shrugged.

“Nope. But his lapdog’s over there, if you wanna ask him.”

“Hm... thank you, Noctis. I’ll be there in a minute, show Mr Argentum his seat please?”

Not waiting to see if they obeyed, Ignis walked away, and Noctis dragged Prompto towards the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're having fun with this fic!


	6. The poker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy sorry for the delay I was busy finishing the french version. I hope I can translate all the chapters faster now! Happy reading~

Prompto had already been impressed when he had to go to the upper deck to meet Ignis—the decoration had nothing to do with what the cheaper dorms looked like, even though his room here had nothing to envy to the shitholes he usually crashed in with Gladio. He had opened his eyes wide when discovering the hall and its golden arabesques. The dining room, however, was something else entirely—a debauchery of light and shiny dishes, painted porcelain, polished metal, crystal glasses. Noctis stopped every two steps to greet someone and intoduced Prompto as “Mister Argentum”, nothing more—and this was how Prompto learned that Argentum was an ancient part of Lucis that had since then been absorbed by the big region of Cleigne, and even though the name had lost its fame in the public eye,the knowing people appreciated an occasion to make a show of their knowledge, and the businessmen still attached a high reputation to it.

Prompto knew that his father worked a lot, but certainly not in the cable car industry like everyone here instantly assumed. When he was a child, his mother had made him sit down to explain that his father and her “helped people to travel across the land” and that was why they weren’t often home, but he had already understood that it wasn’t about tourism. Now, in front of all the high society from Niflheim, whom he couldn’t reveal anything to, he realized how ironic this explanation had been.

As soon as he could contact his parents to tell them about his trip, he must think of congratulating them for this.

When they finally arrived to the royal table, Prompto felt almost comfortable. Obviously Noctis—or probably rather Ignis—invited different people to eat with him every night, so nobody was surprised to see him sitting down next to the prince, leaving an empty chair for Ignis between them while Cor sat at the immediate right to Noctis. On Prompto’s left appeared the woman with the silver hair that Noctis had shown him earlier, Aranea… Prompto had not memorized her last name. She looked down on him and smiled as if she had jut spotted a particularly delicious piece of meat.

“Start with the silverware on the outside and work your way in,” she discretely told him while the rest of the seats were filling up.

Prompto didn’t know what to say. Was it that obvious that he shouldn’t be here?

“Just remember, they’re rich, they love it,” she added even lower. “The trick is to let them think you own a goldmine and they won’t look twice before accepting you in their little club.”

Then, she turned to her other neighbour and started talking out loud:

“Mister Tuesti, I saw one of your teams last month near the ancient quarries in Ghorovas… yes, it’s my men who have been working on excavating that temple… have you seen the last publications about it? It’s fascinating. The details on the painting, and all these diamonds embedded in the walls… it’s a shame that all this needs to be destroyed to leave room for you new laboratory…”

Prompto looked at her as she moved her shoulders and pushed her hair away from her face with her long, manicured nails. He rapidly found himself unable to say what she was talking about, but a quick glance at her neighbour confirmed that he had no idea what she was saying either; all that mattered was the attention she was giving him. 

Then, suddenly, a familiar voice.

“Well, look at that.” 

Prompto felt his stomach make knots but he raised his eyes up to find Ravus sitting at the table on the chair facing him, with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“That’s amazing. You could almost pass for a gentleman.”

Almost, Prompto mentally noted while trying not to look affected by it. On his right, Ignis finally sat between Noctis and him, a satisfied expression on his face.

“Yes, isn’t it interesting?” he said calmly. “One might think he was born to do this just like any of us.”

“Oh, not all of us,” Aranea corrected. “Some here have learned how to pretend.”

She offered Ignis one of her predatory smiles, who winked at her, and Prompto forced himself to not jump in surprise.

He had put her here on purpose. He knew she would instantly understand what kind of person Prompto was, and she would help him. Ignis couldn’t favour Prompto too obviously in front of all these people, but he had made sure he wasn’t just abandoned in the middle of the shark tank.

Prompto sitll had no clear idea what kind of work Ignis was doing for the prince, but he mentally apologized for every bad thought he had towards this invitation to dinner—that man deserved a medal. He deserved a hundred medals.

“This charming young man here is a third class passenger,” Ravus explained to his immediate neighbour, although the man had said nothing on the matter. “He has been of some assistance to the prince a few days ago and we decided to give him a little reward, which is why he is joining us tonight.”

Prompto decided to not say a word on the fact that Ravus had had no intention of rewarding him and Ignis was the only one who deserved credit for this.

“And how do you find the Hydrean, mister Argentum?” asked the guy on Aranea’s left. “Have you ever travelled on ships of this size and prestige?”

“It’s the first time I put my feet on a ship at all,” Prompto admitted while idly wondering if rich people really had several occasions to travel aboard. “But this one is perfect! I mean, it has everything one could ask for… and, I heard the cooling system is one of the greatest that has ever been created,” he added, sending a silent blessing to Holly and their enthusiastic conversations.

The rest of the table seemed to find the answer amusing. Another woman, with a perfectly tailored dress and a shiny red lipstick, asked:

“Are you a mechanic then?”

Prompto shrugged before he could realize he probably shouldn’t. 

“It’s just… a thing I’m good at…”

“What are you doing for a living?”

“Well, I… I’m a photograph, actually…”  
“Prompto is a very talented artist," Noctis suddenly said, bending a little forwards to make sure he was heard by everything. “He was kind enough to show me some of his work today. It’s excellent.”

“So is that why you’re travelling?” Ravus asked. “Are you planning on taking pictures of Altissia? Or is It Accordo’s countryside that interests you?”

“I took the liberty of doing some research about you,” Ignis smiled, “to ensure the prince’s safety of course, but it seemed to me like you are travelling a lot, am I wrong?”

“No, that’s… absolutely correct,” Prompto confirmed, even though the real reason behind his frequent travels was that he had never enough money to stay somewhere for long and had to follow Gladio’s hunting contracts. “There are a lot of splendid places in Lucis, but, you know, artists need to change atmosphere every once in a while…” 

“And this is a rhythm that you enjoy?” the woman with he red lips asked again. “To live on the road, with all the creatures that roam at night? Isn’t it dangerous?”

“That’s what makes the road so interesting,” Aranea said. "You gotta follow the smell of adventure sometimes, right?”

Prompto smiled a bit. He kinda liked that woman. 

“Yeah, I guess... I always travel with friends sot hey can help when things become difficult. And, as long as I have something to look at, I don’t really… need anything else…”

“But how did you find yourself on the Hydrean?” Ravus insisted with a mischievous light in the eyes.

Prompto felt his stomach try to reject the food he had been swallowing until now without thinking. That was the question on everyone’s mind—not the travel, but the money. Like Aranea had said, they were all searching for the secret goldmine. 

He straightened up on his seat.

“Well, actually, it was kind of a surprise,” he said. “I won the tickets at poker.”

For a second, it seemed as if nobody knew how to react, and Prompto started to feel a slight unease coursing through the room. He almost regretted his moment of bravery, but then, Noctis bend towards the center of the table a little more, and raised his glass of white wine.

“And without this, the prince of Lucis would find himself in a very embarrassing position at the bottom of the ocean,” he declared with a smile. “I suggest we raise our glasses to this.”

“What, poker ?” Ignis asked, failing not to look amused. 

“To luck,” Noctis. “And to hasardous and fortunate encounters.”

“That’s well said, your highness,” Aranea said and she raised her glass as well. 

The movement reawoke the others, and, be it sincere or just to look nice, all of them followed the action, repeating the princ’s words. As they did, Ignis shot an amused and proud look at Prompto, who smiled. 

He was good at this.

*

Once the surprise caused by Ravus’ revelation had passed, the guests ignored Prompto and fell back into their old habits—which was comforting for him. There was obviously a sort of silent organization that they all knew about, telling them when to nod and laugh and wait for their turn to talk. The number of alcohol glasses also seemed perfectly calculated to relax them progressively, without excess. Noctis didn’t talk much, but as the stories unfolded one by one, he smiled at Prompto with more or less sincerity to reflect his opinion on things. Ignis, as the good planner he was, led the danse, gave the actors their lines and positions on the set. And dinner became a show.

Prompto really felt like being rich wasn’t made for him.

Once the plates were empty, the guests started looking a little more restless, and Noctis bent towards Prompto again.

“Now that’s the part where they’re going to grab a last drink in the next lobby and discuss of their incredible success some more.”

The words weren’t noticed in the middle of the chairs moving and clothes ruffling, and right after that, Noctis turned to Ignis and made a hand gesture. They apparently had a secret language between them because Ignis nodded and immediately provided Noctis with a golden, retractable cane. 

“Are you going to join us, mister Argentum ?” Ravus asked with a smile that looked entirely for show. 

Prompto shook his head. “Thank you a lot for the invitation, but I’ll have to… return to the lower deck. I have friends who are probably dying to know if I made it alive.” 

Ravus’ smile became slightly more forced, if that was even possible. “Of course. Very well.”

“I want to go back too,” Noctis whined, grabbing Ignis’ arm for support as he stood up and put his weight on the cane. It was a splendid object, much more elegant than the crutches he had seen him use the other night. He didn’t seem as stable as last time though—not that Prompto knew anything about leg conditions. Ignis kneeled in front of him and tightened the splint around his knee in one swift gesture. “Anyway, thanks for coming Prom. That was nice.”

Prompto blinked for a second before he got his grasp back on reality. “Oh, that was nothing, really... I mean thanks for inviting me. I mean, you can thank Ignis.”

“Oh, that was the least I could do for someone who helped the prince,” Ignis answered without missing a beat and damn, Prompto wished he knew how to lie that well. Gladio and Ignis would probably be ruthless at poker. 

Noctis held his hand up. It took Prompto a moment to understand he was supposed to grab it. They exchanged an awkward handshake, maybe a little too enthusiastically compared to what etiquette required, but Prompto couldn’t care less. 

“Prompto,” Ignis then said, “can I trust you to bring the prince back at least up to the middle deck? I would like to talk to some of these people before they leave the room without me.” 

“Oh, duh. Of course. No problem. You can count on me!”

“That just means you need to stay next to me in case I need to hold on to something,” Noctis précised, offering him the arm that wasn’t holding the cane. 

Prompto smiled wide. “Well then, let’s go, your majesty!”

Goodbyes one again took longer than Prompto would have thought and he could see in Noctis’ tired look that he wished he could shorten them, too. But when they finally got out of the dining room, the prince already looked better.

“Are you okay? I mean, will you be able to climb the stairs?” Prompto asked as they approached the steps.

Noctis winked at him.

“I’m fine. Having a bad leg also helps avoiding the annoying conversations.”

“Oh… oh! Hey! That’s not very nice, Your Majesty!”

“What, you wanted to stay?”

“Oh, not at all…”

He had said that way too fast; he probably shouldn’t admit it so easily in front of the prince, even if he did. Noctis laughed. 

“See? Anyway. You’re the expert fo the lower desk, so, tell me. Do you think there’s a way we can steal a bottle of wine from the kitchen stocks and drink it in a quiet corner somewhere?”

Prompto could already feel the handcuffs tighten around his wrists at the idea of being found getting the prince of Lucis drunk on cheap wine, but he still considered the suggestion for a minute. Once they reached the top of the stairs, nobody would see them. And as a matter of fact, he had seen quite a lot of bottles today when Gladio carried them to…

“Tell me,” he carefully started as an idea formed in his mind. “Wouldn’t you rather see a real party?”


	7. The shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I said I'd update faster and then got lost in 271883 projects oops

Three girls in minishorts and fishnet thighs were agressively playing guitar and enthusiastically screaming in a microphone. Noctis first grimaced, but Prompto’s face immediately lit up, and he almost dragged Noctis inside. People were standing or sitting in shitty plastic chairs, and some were dancing around the small stage where the band played. Most of them were holding large glasses of various liquids.

Noctis knew, theoretically, how parties went for people who weren’t nobility, but it was the first time he actually saw one of these parties up close.

Prompto moved through the crowd without any hesitation, looking up as if he was searching for something, and then he started jumping in place and held a hand high in the air, franctically waving.

“Gladio!” he screamed over the noise. “Over there!”

Splitting the crowd in half, Prompto’s friend suddely appeared in front of Noctis. It was the guy he had seen with him before, but now that he was standing right in front of him, he was actually one of the tallest men Noctis had ever met. He was a dark-haired giant with a leather jacket open on a large scar crossing his torso and dark lines were visible on his arms ; he looked terrifying. 

“Prom? What, you got scared or wha…”

In the middle of his sentence, his eyes found the prince and his face changed to show slight confusion. 

“Hey,” Noctis said, trying to look relaxed by putting his weihgt on his cane.

“Highness,” the guy carefully answered.

“You can call me Noctis. You’re Gladio, right? We didn’t get introduced last time but I’ve seen you on Prompto’s pictures. That tattoo is really impressive.”

“And the real thing is even better!” Prompto screamed as a supposedly awkward attempt at defusing the tension.

But the subject at least got a smile out of Gladio, even if his stature was still intimidating. 

“Thanks. I’ll tell people that it’s been approved by the prince of Lucis. It’s a honor to meet you.”

“Thanks, but really, you can drop the act, it’s fine.”

“Reflex. The Amicitia have always been very strict about these things.”

For a second, Noctis almost didn’t react. Actually, he was about to just follow with some stupid conversational filler, like, “oh, military parents?”

Then he blinked.

“Oh!” he screamed as his brain finally processed. “Seriously? Wait, you’d be like… Clarus’ son, right? Dude, my dad talked to me about yours like, hundreds of times! They were really close when they were young.”

“Yeah, i twas kind of a hard blox for mine to have to leave the court.”

“He keeps telling me about that time they poured dishwashing liquid into the fountain in front of the citadel.”

Gladio burst out laughing at this, which made both Noctis and Prompto jump. But his attitude immediately relaxed after that, and he held a hand to shake Noctis’.

“Okay, and what business does the prince of Lucis have to do on the lower deck?”

“Well, as you can see,” Noctis shook his bad leg, “we tend to get rusty up there so I came to see how normal people dance.”

*

Ignis cleaned his glasses as he walked out of the lounge and put them in his pocket. Observing the world through the mist felt sometimes easier, especially when It was getting late and the lighting in the reception rooms of the Hydrean was getting on his nerves. He knew the place inside and out anyway, he had studied the plans long before putting a foot on the boat, and he had carefully examined every hallway since they had left Galdin. He could find his way without thinking, and so he could think of something else as he walked.

There was something shady about the empire. The peace treaty was a stupid con, and its appearance of a graceful opportunity was just perverse diplomacy, and that was the least they could have expected from Niflheim. Nothing strange here. The wedding was a slightly ridiculous part, but the strategic advantage was obvious—Tenebrae had always been an ally of Lucis, but it had no political weight anymore. The emperor held Lunafreya in one hand and Ravus in the other, and with that wedding, he was just making sure that the protestations from the Lucian side were smothered under the need to maintain good relationships with the Nox Fleuret. 

But something wasn’t right, something didn’t match, and despite Ignis’ efforts to smile and nod and the right time during all of his discussions with Ravus, despite all the notes he discreetly or mentally took about everything he said, despite trying to assemble the puzzle in all possible ways, he still couldn’t find the missing piece, the one that would have made him see the bigger picture. 

He was left with only questions: why had Ravus stayed in Insomnia to supervise the construction when he had no expertise in boats, why was he always watching everything, why was he always in such a bad mood? He didn’t even seem to really mind the direction politics had taken, he didn’t seem to mind the wedding; no, his problem was with Noctis and Noctis alone, and Ignis couldn’t find why. 

Just like he couldn’t understand why it was so important that their entire security onboard was handled by the empire. It was Ravus who had asked that the magiteks were everywhere, with their barcodes and their rifles, their empty looks and their empty minds. They were unable to do anything but obey orders, which had proven useful on a battlefield but was much less practical on a boat. Were they here only to remind the Lucians that they were on the losing side? It wasn’t difficult to see why Noctis hated being here—the young prince had always been bright and intuitive, despite the appearances. He was very emotional; he probably felt the same unease as Ignis without being able to express it in questions and analysis like his advisor could. He could only feel the weird scratching at the back of his head, the sort of constant alert that something was deeply, desperately wrong.

Ignis opened the door to the suite and immediately knew what was wrong here.

Silence, stillness. Nobody was even breathing here. Ignis didn’t need to check—he knew Noctis wasn’t in his bed.

He sighed in exasperation. Of course; why had he let him leave with Prompto of all people? Of course he was going to take advantage of the poor boy who had no authority on him. Could someone had seen them? Where could they have gone, anyway?

There weren’t so many places they could go. They barely knew each other, and that boat wasn’t that big. Ignis, however, knew Noctis since they were children, and had managed to get a clear idea of who Prompto was during dinner. He had a few guess about where they could end up. And he could search for them without Ravus and Cor noticing.

 

The music inside the room covered the noise of the door opening. The smell of beer and sweat made his head spin, and, for a second, he thought about turning back immediately, but, as he walked down the small steps with a hand before his mouth, his eyes locked up on his target.  
This wasn’t what he was searching for.  
Astrals, this certainly couldn’t be.  
At the back of the room, on a stage that seemed to have been improvised for the occasion, a group of girls sang and played instruments as harshly as they could, and a few people had climbed the stage to dance right next to them. Ignis could clearly see Noctis amongst them. His jacket had been abandoned the Gods knew where, the sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up. And he was moving his hips without the slightest shame against Prompto, whose head was almost leaning on his shoulder. And in front of them, another guy was also taking his jacket off to reveal a naked chest and a giant tattoo on his back and arms. He threw the jacket in the crowd and people applauded.

And Noctis’ face, in the middle of all this debauchery, was showing the largest, brightest smile that Ignis had seen on his for years. As he stopped to look, he felt his heart sink in his chest at the realization.

Nobody should ever, ever see him like that. 

And then, someone walked towards him with a glass of beer and, in a desperate attempt at avoiding a collision, Ignis suddenly found himself stuck in the middle of a group of drunkards who were yelling at the show. They didn’t seem to appreciate his intrustion—he felt their eyes stop on the fine fabric of his shirt, the golden buckles of his suspenders, the shiy quality of his shoes; and one of them screamed:

“Someone got lost here!”

They probably weren’t bad people. They didn’t seem particularly aggressive, if ignis was being honest, only very drunk and excited. But the slurred words still made him want to back off as fast as he could, and he desperately looked around him, searching for a way out that had disappeared behind him. 

And during a second, Noctis opened his eyes to see where the noise was coming from. Their eyes met and Ignis could see his expression instantly go from satisfied to panicked. The young prince stepped back, tried to hide behind Prompto, attracting his attention in the process, as well as the giant guy’s. 

Ignis would have preferred being anywhere else than here. 

But he had to do something now. He couldn’t just let the situation resolve itself.

There was an exchange of words on the stage that he couldn’t hear. As he tried to escape the group he had found himself stuck in, he saw the giant guy answer something, make a vague gesture to Noctis, and then jump down the stage and push the crowd around with an indecent ease, to reach Ignis in a few steps. 

From up close, Gladiolus Amicitia—because of course, i twas him, the tattoo and the face left no doubt—was even more impressive, not only in height but also in shape. He could probably have knocked Ignis off with just one hand. Ignis tried to look up and not stop for too long on the large pecs, the square jaw or the strands of hair that were stuck to the sides of Gladiolus’ sweaty face; but his piercing look wasn’t easier to meet than the rest of him.

Ignis briefly wished he had met him in other circumstances. Ones that implied a little more distance between them and a little more clothes on Gladiolus’ back. The image of him holding the prince close wouldn’t leave Ignis’ mind, and Ignis could have done without such a distraction.

“You need anything?” Gladiolus asked with the casual tone of someone who doesn’t see a problem in the situation. 

Ignis’ throat was suddenly very dry.

“I… am searching for… I believe I have a friend here.”

Apparently, this was funny to Gladiolus Amicitia. 

“A friend, huh? Like the one hiding over there?”

He only made a vague head gesture to point at Noctis, who was still hiding behind prompto and looking terribly embarrassed. The way Gladiolus was talking about him, he already knew what was going on here. He clearly knew who Noctis was. 

Of course he did. Who didn’t?

“I think you’re gonna have to talk him out of this,” Gladiolus warned. “He’s having fun here, it seems.”

At least Gladiolus didn’t look like he was going to separate Ignis’ head from the rest of his body, or even throw him out of the room. He exhaled something strong but calm, tranquil even, like a large dog who knows he doesn’t need to bark.

He must know what kind of effect he had on people with such… shoulders.

Ignis let him guide him through the crowd towards the other side of the room. The more he approached the stage, the louder the music was and the stronger the smell of beer. Ignis failed to see the attractiveness of such an atmosphere. Gladiolus jumped back on the stage with the same ease he had shown to jump down, and turned to help Ignis without missing a beat. 

The two other boys looked like children who had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Noctis was holding Prompto’s shoulder, eyes shiny with alcohol and exhaustion, his forehead covered in sweat, the collar of his shirt rumpled beyond recognition. His friend didn’t look any better, but he wasn’t supposed to represent the authority of the Lucian kingdom.

“Where have you put your cane?” Ignis asked, and, with the music around them, he couldn’t make it sound as authoritative as he wanted. 

Noctis took a slight step to show himself. He looked truly terrified, which broke Ignis’ heart—he always hated reprimanding him—but he completely failed to look actually guilty, which made Ignis feel a little more conflicted. He was holding Prompto’s shoulder like he feared Ignis could take him away from him. 

“I gave him to Gladio, he put it somewhere…”

Gladiolus Amicitia, who was looking at the whole scene like he was the referee to a football game, nodded and pointed at the corner of the room.

“It’s all here, cane and clasp and vest, and under surveillance.”

At least someone was being careful here.

“We weren’t doing anything wrong, Ignis.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at Noctis, who was having a hard time meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t think you really understand the situation.”

He didn’t have to, of course. He never had to—Ignis was always doing the work for him, checking the phones, the guest list, the emergency exits, making sure he wasn’t offered to many drinks, making sure no one was filming him to sell videos to newspapers holding anti-monarchy lines… this was his job to take care of these things for him, and Noctis never made it easy.

“It’s too late now anyway, so we could stay a little longer? It’s not that late in the night…”

There were too many risks in letting this whole thing continue, but when Ignis straightened his back and opened his mouth to argue, Noctis rushed towards him and put his arms around his neck, holding himself in a precarious position just an inch from Ignis’ face, deep blue eyes finally focusing on his own.

“What can I do to convince you? Iggy?” he asked, closing the distance even more.

Ignis just had time to push him back, his heart beat racing and his face turning red. Gladiolus Amicitia started laughing, holding Noctis before he lost his balance. 

But it wasn’t funny at all! Ignis was losing control at an alarming rate. What if someone took pictures of them, what if they posted them online? He couldn’t ask every person in the room to turn their phones off without admitting that he was protecting that the prince was in the room—so much for protecting his privacy. His hands were tied, and now Noctis was trying to—to—! 

“Noctis you’re about to get married!” Ignis screamed, knowing full well that this would accomplish absolutely nothing. 

“Well! Consider this my bachelor party! I didn’t have a bachelor party, Iggy, come on! I don’t even want to marry anyway, I don’t love Luna, I’m—”

“FINE!” Ignis was ready to do anything to bring the prince back in his room, except hearing him loudly say things like that in the middle of a crowded room, even if said crowd was rendered deaf by the music and the bad beer. “Fine, we’re staying. Until I say so.”

“Yesss!” Without missing a beat, Noctis turned around and, in a surprisingly elegant move, grabbed Prompto’s shoulders instead of Ignis’. Prompto, who had also abandoned his smoking jacket, reacted with the same enthusiasm. Now they looked like children who had just been promised a stay at an amusement park. 

This was a very, very bad idea.

Gladiolus calmly approached Ignis now that the tempest had passed, and offered his hand, like an invitation.

“Come on. You’re here to keep an eye on him, now, so he should be fine, right? Or don’t you trust yourself enough for that?”

Ignis frowned at him.

“Keeping an eye on him is what I could have expected of you, rather than encouraging him. Your exile from the court does not release you from basic moral obligations towards the royal family, mister Amicitia.”

Gladiolus seemed surprised for just one second, then he burst out laughing. 

“Should’ve guessed I’d be unmasked fast. But even the prince took longer than that. Mind if I offer you a drink? We’ve got a large variety of beers here.”

Ignis fiddled with his glasses. As long as he didn’t look too much in the general direction of Gladiolus Amicitia, his pecs and biceps and abs and the thin line of dark hair disappearing under his belt, he could probably hold a normal conversation with him after all.

“I’m afraid I have rather refined tastes.”

Not looking annoyed one second, Gladiolus smiled wider. 

“Let’s see what we can find that will meet your standards, then. I guess you know my first name as well as my family name, but you can call me Gladio. But I’m afraid I don’t know who you are exactly…”

Ignis shot one last glance to Noctis, who was back to dancing with Prompto and ignoring everything around him, and gave up. He took Gladio’s open hand, it was warm and dry and so big it completely covered his own, and a shiver ran through his back.

“Ignis Scientia,” he answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll get the rest posted faster. Hope you still enjoy this!


End file.
